


Love, Family, Happiness

by Squeaky



Category: White Collar
Genre: Christmas Angst, Christmas Fluff, Ghosts of Christmas, Hit With A Clue-By-Four, Multi, Past Character Death, Posting now just in time for Christmas!, Ripping Off Charles Dickens, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:46:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2599334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeaky/pseuds/Squeaky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal is not as alone at Christmas as he thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Family, Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in one night for the White Collar H/C community’s 2012 Advent Calendar. This is a blatant rip-off of “A Christmas Carol.” Thank you Charles Dickens for your wonderful story. It was originally posted at [ White Collar Hurt Comfort Community. ](http://whitecollarhc.livejournal.com/103532.html)
> 
> With huge thanks to [ Taste_is_Sweet ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_is_Sweet/pseuds/Taste_is_Sweet/works%22) for her excellence in beta! Go check out her stuff. She’s a great writer too.
> 
> * * *

  
  
“Neal.”  
  
“G’way,” Neal muttered, burying himself deeper under the covers. He felt sick,  _awful_  really. The cold that he’d been fighting all week had finally grabbed him by the throat and taken him down, then stomped on his chest for good measure. And now he was feverish and raspy and his body ached. Even his skin hurt. Sleeping didn’t hurt, and he wanted to stay asleep.  
  
“Neal,” she said again. Cajoling, insistent. “Neal, I need to talk to you.”  
  
“Go away Kate,” Neal muttered. “You’re dead.”  
  
He felt the bed shift with her weight, heard her sigh. “I know.”  
  
Neal pulled the covers low enough so that he could peer at her with one eye. “You know?”  
  
“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. They were lit a brilliant blue even in the low light of his room. “I was there when the plane blew up, remember? Kind of hard to ignore something like that.”  
  
Neal pulled the blanket down to his chest. “I missed you,” he said, swallowing against the tears pushing at the back of his throat. It made his throat hurt and he coughed.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes sad. “But I’m doing okay on the other side. I promise.”  
  
Neal smiled, but what she'd said confused him. “So why are you here?”  
  
“To fix something,” she said. “Something broke when I died that I need to fix.”  
  
Neal’s eyebrows drew down. “What broke?”  
  
“You.”

 

* * *

  
  
They were standing on a beach in the Dominican. Kate was wearing a stylish one-piece navy blue bathing suit with an oversized sheer white shirt left open over top. She had on a large-brimmed floppy hat and big sunglasses and she looked bronzed and glamorous and like something out of a magazine.  
  
Neal was wearing his striped silk pyjama bottoms and nothing else. He felt ridiculous. “Why are we here?” he whispered, moving out of the way of a large European man who should have been wearing less body hair and more swim trunks.  
  
“You don’t need to whisper,” Kate said in her normal voice. “No one can see us.”  
  
“This is Puerto Plata!” Neal said. “I remember it from our first Christmas together, when we still had money before Adler screwed us. It was a great vacation, but why are we here?”  
  
“To remind you what Christmas used to be like,” Kate said. “Before the Ponzi scheme and the cons. Before Peter Burke of the FBI, before jail.” She linked her arm through his and started strolling along with him on the beach. “We had a really good time here.”  
  
“I remember,” Neal said. He was watching him and Kate playing in the surf. She was running from him and shrieking as he scooped her up and threatened to throw her into the water. She clung to him, and then they were kissing, their bodies tanned and gleaming in the sunlight. He turned to look at the Kate at his side, equally as beautiful but as far away as a dream. It felt like his heart was breaking all over again. “But it's gone now.”  
  
“Our time in the Dominican is gone,” Kate agreed. She took her hat off and leaned against his arm, her hair warm and soft against his skin.  
  
“I hate this time of year,” Neal said softly, looking at him and Kate strolling hand-in-hand along the edge of the water. “Every cold, wet Christmas in New York reminds me of you and the Caribbean sun and how I’ll never have this again.” He bowed his head, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. “Sometimes it’s all I can think about.”  
  
She squeezed his arm. “This was a moment of perfection in our lives,” Kate said. “But even when we were still together, we never came to this place again. And I don’t just mean the Dominican.”  
  
Neal met her gaze, a question in his eyes.  
  
“It’s true,” Kate said. “Shortly after this everything fell apart with Adler. And then we were running cons all the time. And then you left.”  
  
“And then I came back and went to jail.” Neal sighed. “We really  _were_  never like this again. I guess I never thought about it that way.”  
  
“We had a Christmas that was very special,” Kate said. “But it wasn’t really the beach or the sunshine that made it so great, it was about the love we felt for each other.” She squeezed his arm again. “And I think you’ve forgotten that, Neal. Christmas is about love.”  
  
Neal smirked. “That sounds very Hallmark.”  
  
“Why aren’t you with anyone you love this Christmas?” Kate asked, turning to face him.  
  
“Because I’m home sick in bed.” Neal said, looking into her bright blue eyes. “Dreaming of you.”  
  
“I’m long gone,” she said, and her smile was tragic. “But there are others here who love you, Neal. Please don’t let my death end your life, too.” She touched his face with her hand. Her skin felt as warm as it always had.  
  
The beach around them disappeared, and when Neal looked up he was standing in his darkened bedroom, the night air uncomfortably cool against his feverish skin.  
  
“Don’t leave,” he whispered. But Kate was already gone.  


* * *

  
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”  
  
Neal started to smile even before his eyes were open. “Ellen?”  
  
“The one and only,” she said, smiling down at him from where she was sitting on the side of his bed. She started stroking his hair.  
  
“It’s really good to see you,” he said, and then his voice broke, the tears he'd kept in check with Kate starting to leak from his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re gone.”  
  
“I never would have left you if I’d had a choice,” she said, her hand still stroking. “I hope you know that.”  
  
Neal nodded and sat up. The movement shook a wracking cough from his lungs.  
  
Ellen frowned. “Poor baby. You're really not feeling well.”  
  
“No,” Neal agreed. “I feel pretty bad, actually.”  
  
“It’s your fever,” she tutted. “You should be with someone who can take care of you.”  
  
“I can take care of myself,” Neal said, pulling the blanket up higher on his chest. The room was too cold to be comfortable. “Besides, I’ll call Mozzie if I get really bad.”  
  
Ellen made a face. “Do you even know where Mozzie is?”  
  
“He hates being in the ‘capitalist capital of the world’ for Christmas.” Neal made air quotes with his fingers then shrugged. “I think he’s in France, maybe?”  
  
“Then who’s taking care of you? June?”  
  
“She’s on a family cruise in the Caribbean,” Neal said. “But her housekeeper is still here.”  
  
Ellen shook her head. “Neal! You need to do better than that!”  
  
He looked at her and his eyes welled up again. “I really miss you.”  
  
“You don’t need to miss me,” she said. “You have lots of people in your life now.”  
  
Neal shook his head. “No. No one loves me like you do--did.”  
  
“I still love you,” she said softly. “Just from farther away.”  
  
He swiped a tear off his cheek. “I just wish I wasn’t so alone.”  
  
“You’re not alone!” Ellen looked astonished. “Is that what you believe?”  
  
He shrugged and looked away.  
  
Ellen stood abruptly. “Enough of this b.s. You’re not alone now, and I’m going to prove it to you.” She held out her hand to him. “Come on.”  
  
Neal shifted to the edge of the bed. “Where are we going?”  
  
“Somewhere where you can see how very much  _not_  alone you really are.”  
  
“Okay,” Neal said, taking her hand. “But can I put a sweater on first?”  


* * *

  
They were, standing in the Burke’s living room.  
  
“They can’t see me, can they?” Neal asked, though he already knew the answer.  
  
“No,” she confirmed. “And now shush. They’re saying something important.”  
  
“This is nice,” Peter said. His arm was around Elizabeth on the couch where they were cuddled together. Satchmo was at their feet, asleep and snoring softly.  
  
“I’m so glad we decided to stay here instead of going to my parents this year,” El sighed. “I love them, but…”  
  
“I know,” Peter said, giving her shoulder a little squeeze. “Seeing them for Christmas tomorrow will probably be plenty of family time for all of us.”  
  
She laughed. “You’re just saying that because you hate wearing that ugly sweater.”  
  
Peter laughed too and pulled her closer. “We’re missing  _It’s a Wonderful Life._ ”  
  
Elizabeth snuggled into him, but then her brow creased. “Are you sure that Neal knew the invitation was for real?”  
  
“I’m sure,” Peter said with a tone that implied it wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. “He insisted he didn’t want to impose. I insisted he wouldn’t, and there you go.” He shrugged.  
  
El’s frown deepened. “He shouldn’t be alone at Christmas.”  
  
“I know.” Peter exhaled. “But he didn’t want to come.”  
  
“I think he’s still hurting from Ellen’s death,” Elizabeth said quietly.  
  
Neal shot Ellen a look. “How does she know that?”  
  
“She’s a very perceptive woman,” Ellen said. “And she pays a lot of attention to you.”  
  
“I think you’re right,” Peter said, equally as quietly. “I wish he’d let me help him.”  
  
“He knows you’re there for him,” Elizabeth said, patting Peter’s torso. Peter looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Okay,” she said. “So he doesn’t exactly know  _how much_  you’re there for him, but that will come.”  
  
“I wish I could just tell him how I feel,” Peter said. “How we  _both_  feel,” he added quickly at Elizabeth’s sharp look. “But I can’t until his anklet comes off.”  
  
“I think you could,” Elizabeth said even while Peter was shaking his head. “You’ve treated him with the utmost of integrity up to now. He’ll know you’re not going to try anything in the last few months before he’s released.”  
  
“I’d feel better if we wait,” Peter said. He pushed out his bottom lip, thinking. “Well, unless he figures it out on his own…”  
  
El laughed. “Now there’s a Christmas wish if I ever heard one.”  
  
Peter sighed. “He should be here El,” he said. “With you and me.”  
  
El sighed too. “Yes,” she agreed seriously. “He absolutely should.”  
  
“Next year,” Peter said, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.  
  
“Next year,” El repeated with a nod of her head. “Now be quiet. I love this part.”  
  
Neal couldn’t tear his eyes away from the couple on the couch. “I didn’t know they wanted me here that badly,” he murmured.  
  
“They care about you very much,” Ellen said, turning to look at him.  
  
“I care about them, too.” Neal said. “Peter’s my best friend.  _More_  than a best friend. And El…” He shook his head ruefully. “I don’t even know how to express what I feel for El.”  
  
“Christmas is about family, Neal,” Ellen said softly. “And you should be with yours.”  
  
“You were my family,” Neal said, gripping her hand. “And now I don’t have any family left.”  
  
“I think that Peter and Elizabeth would be your family,” Ellen said. “If you’d let them.”  
  
“No.” Neal shook his head. “They may care for me, but it’s because they’re really good people. They already have a family.” He gestured at the couch. “Its right there.”  
  
“Don’t let my death keep you from your family, Neal,” Ellen said. She made a small movement with her hand, and suddenly they were back in Neal’s apartment.  
  
She walked him over to his bed. “Now you should lie down. Your fever’s pretty high.”  
  
“Okay,” Neal agreed, sliding between the covers. He didn’t even question how they'd gotten from the Burke’s house to his so fast. “I love you,” he said, letting his eyes fall shut.  
  
“I love you too,” he thought he heard Ellen whisper, but then he was asleep.  


* * *

 

“Get up.”  
  
Neal opened his eyes to see Sara standing over him, her arms crossed.  
  
“You’re not dead,” he said.  
  
“No,” she said. “But you will be if you don’t get out of bed.”  
  
He immediately complied, not liking the angry look in Sara’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“I’m meant to show you your future,” she said with a sneer. “Although why it has to be me, I’ll never know.”  
  
“I already saw Kate and Ellen tonight,” Neal said. He eyed her warily. “I kind of thought that only dead people could visit me like this.”  
  
“Consider this a vision of my future self,” Sara said airily. Neal peered at her. “Don’t look so close!” she shrieked. “I have crow’s feet!”  
  
“You’re beautiful,” Neal said, and Sara softened.  
  
“I forgot how much I liked you,” she said. She grabbed his wrist. “Now, let's get moving.”  


* * *

  
They were back at the Burke house.  
  
“Why are we here?” Neal whispered. He remembered that no one could see or hear them on these strange travels, but it still felt weird to speak out loud in the darkened bedroom.  
  
Especially a darkened bedroom with a crib in it. A crib that contained a sleeping baby.  
  
He startled when he realized what he was looking at. “This is their guest room!” he exclaimed, still whispering. “But why is there a baby?”  
  
“You’ll see,” Sara said. She sounded angry. Her hand still gripped his wrist, tightly enough to hurt.  
  
“Why are you so mad?” Neal asked, turning to look at her.  
  
“You’ll see,” Sara repeated.  
  
The baby whimpered in its sleep.  
  
“Coming, sweetheart,” a woman called.  
  
“That’s Elizabeth!” Neal said happily. “Did she and Peter have a baby?”  
  
“You’ll see!” Sara glared at him. “Now shut up and watch.”  
  
Elizabeth staggered into the room just as the baby started to cry in earnest. Within seconds she had plopped herself down into a rocking chair by the crib and lifted up her pyjama top, gently putting the baby to her breast. “Here you go, you greedy little pig,” she crooned softly to the baby. She cuddled it in her arms, one hand stroking the back of its head.  
  
“She and Peter had a baby,” Neal said in awe. He was smiling so hard it felt like his face might split. “That’s fantastic!”  
  
“It’s something all right,” Sara muttered. “But it’s not exactly Peter’s.”  
  
“What?” Neal asked, but before Sara answered, someone else came through the door of the bedroom.  
  
“Is Ellen okay?” The man said, coming up to Elizabeth and starting to massage her shoulders.  
  
Neal gaped. “That’s  _me!_ ”  
  
“Yup,” Sara said flatly. “It’s you all over.”  
  
“But what happened to Peter?” Neal cried, feeling his heart tighten in his chest. “Did something happen to him? Is he okay?”  
  
“She’s fine, just hungry,” Elizabeth said, looking up at the Neal massaging her. “Is Peter still asleep?”  
  
“Uh huh,” the other Neal said, moving his thumbs to the nape of her neck. She sighed in blissful contentment. “He moved a bit when you got up, but I managed to get him back to sleep.”  
  
“Thanks,” Elizabeth said. She moved her hand from the baby to pat one of Neal’s. “He was up all last night with her. He needs his sleep.”  
  
“What’s going on?” Neal turned to Sara. “Why am I here with Peter and Elizabeth? And why would I be getting Peter back to sleep?”  
  
“Because you’re sharing a bed with them,” Sara snapped. “I wasn’t good enough for you, but an old married couple was. Obviously.”  
  
“They’re not old!” Neal hissed at her.  
  
“The defense rests, your honour,” Sara muttered.  
  
“I’m sharing a bed with Peter and Elizabeth?” Neal said, his heart tightening for a completely different reason. “Really?”  
  
“Yes, really,” Sara said. She levelled her gaze at him. “If you want.”  
  
“If I want?” Neal repeated.  
  
“Hello,” Peter said, coming into the room and rubbing his eyes.  
  
“Hey,” Neal said, moving from Elizabeth to the doorway. “You’re meant to be asleep.”  
  
“The bed was cold with you both gone.” Peter smiled. “It woke me up.” He stroked Neal’s face, and then went to Elizabeth, taking her offered hand. “How’s our princess?”  
  
“Nearly asleep,” Elizabeth smiled. “And then we all can be, too.”  
  
“Look,” the Neal with Elizabeth and Peter said, checking a small clock on the dresser. “It’s already after midnight.”  
  
“Merry Christmas.” Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes shining.  
  
“Merry Christmas,” he said, coming to kneel by the chair.  
  
“Merry Christmas, my loves,” Peter said, kneeling beside Neal. He leaned over and kissed him.  
  
The Neal with Sara sucked in a breath.  
  
Peter then kissed Elizabeth, and then it was their Neal’s turn, and the three of them were kissing with a passion that made Neal's jaw drop and his cock harden at the same time. “If I want,” he repeated again, but this time it wasn’t a question.  
  
“Christmas is about happiness,” Sara said. “It’s recognizing our blessings and being grateful for them, and letting ourselves be truly happy because of it.” She turned and looked at him. “So, do you recognize your blessings, Neal? Are you going to let yourself be happy?”  
  
“I don’t know if I deserve all this,” he said, still looking at the threesome. Peter had taken the baby from Elizabeth, and was putting her back in her crib with a touch so tender it made Neal’s heart ache.  
  
“Blessings, remember?” Sara frowned at him. “You already  _have_  this, Neal. It's just waiting for you to reach out and grab it.”  
  
Peter, Neal and Elizabeth had left the room. Neal and Elizabeth had been holding hands, with Peter’s arm slung over Neal’s shoulders. They looked like a family in love. They looked happy.  
  
“Love, family, happiness,” Neal whispered.  
  
“And the boy finally buys a clue,” Sara said. She rolled her eyes.  
  
Neal turned to her. “I really did love you, you know,” he said. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”  
  
Sara’s expression softened. “I know,” she said, thumping him on the shoulder. “And two years from now, you’re going to be a guest at my wedding.” She shrugged. “You’re just a little hard to get over.”  
  
“I count having been with you as one of my blessings,” Neal said, taking her hand.  
  
“As well you should,” Sara said. She grinned. “And we’re home.”  
  
Neal was back in his apartment, the pale light of dawn beginning to break through the clouds deep on the horizon.  
  
“Merry Christmas,” Neal whispered to the empty room.  
  
And then he coughed harshly, his throat burning and his chest heaving with the effort.  
  
“Still sick,” he muttered. He crawled back into his bed, pulling the covers up around his ears.  


* * *

  
Peter and Elizabeth found him there a couple of hours later.

He was pale and shivering and too hot, and Elizabeth and Peter shared worried looks as Peter found another blanket to throw over Neal.

“I’m going to find some cold medication,” Elizabeth said, bending down to kiss Neal’s forehead.

“In the bathroom,” Neal croaked from where he lay in bed. He felt infinitely better underneath his covers, knowing that Peter and Elizabeth were there.

“You should have called us,” Peter admonished, sitting down on the chair by the bed. His expression was fierce, but Neal could see the fear and concern reflected deep in Peter’s dark eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Neal rasped.

“You should be,” Peter said harshly. “Elizabeth was worried sick when we first came in and realized you were unwell.”

“It’s true,” Elizabeth said, coming up to the bed. She had a bottle of bright green cold and flu medication. “I was worried.” She frowned at him as she eyed the full bottle. “And you should have taken this before.”

“Sorry,” Neal said again as Peter helped him to sit up. He drank down the medicine without complaint, although he couldn’t help but make a face at its foul taste.

“Yeah, it tastes like poison,” Peter said sympathetically. He rubbed Neal’s shoulder. “You should feel better now.”

“I already do,” Neal said. He looked at both of them. “Thank you for coming.”

“It’s Christmas,” Elizabeth said. “We couldn’t leave you alone on Christmas.”

“You’re like family,” Peter said gruffly. He tightened his grip on Neal’s shoulder.

Neal shifted so that he could cover Peter’s hand with his own. Then he reached out and took Elizabeth’s hand, an image of the three of them, with their baby, held firmly in his mind.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Elizabeth asked, grasping his hand.

“I love you,” he said to her. He saw her startled look, and the way Peter shifted in his chair, opening his mouth to protest. “ _Both_  of you,” Neal immediately clarified. ”I love you both.”

Elizabeth and Peter shared a look. “And we love you too,” Elizabeth said in her best ‘mom’ voice. “And when you’re better--“

“No,” Neal said, sitting up and capturing them both with his gaze. “I may be sick, but I know what I’m saying. I  _love_  you. More than colleagues, more than friends. I love you.”

Elizabeth licked her lips, and Peter cleared his throat. They exchanged glances again.  _Someday they’ll do that with me,_  Neal thought, and he grinned. “For sure,” he said to their confused and hopeful expressions. “For real.”

“Wow.” Peter’s face broke into a wide smile. He held Neal’s hand tightly. “You have  _no idea_  how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

“I’ll say it every minute of every day, if it will make you happy,” Neal said.

Elizabeth leaned in and hugged him, tears of joy brushing against Neal’s cheek. “I love you, too,” she said.

“Me, too,” Peter said. “Absolutely.”

Neal coughed. Suddenly he was feeling exceptionally tired.

Peter recognized it immediately, and helped him lay back down. “You okay, buddy?” he said, his face a mask of concern.

“I am now,” Neal said, letting Elizabeth fix his covers.

“Get some sleep,” she said. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

“I love you,” Neal said again.  _Thank you, Kate,_  he thought. _Thank you, Ellen and Sara._  He would always mourn having lost them, but their caring had blessed him with something he’d thought he’d never have again.

_Love, family, happiness,_  Neal thought, and let himself drift to sleep.

END


End file.
